


Echoes of the Night

by spica_starson



Series: Geralt & Dandelion’s Adventures [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dandelion experiencing artist' block, Friends understanding each other, Friendship, Gen, Sensory Overload, we need more book!dandelion and book!geralt content yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24755143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spica_starson/pseuds/spica_starson
Summary: Just another night as the two friends travel across the continent together. Dandelion's struggle as a poet makes itself known, and the two of them learn something new about each other yet again.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geralt & Dandelion’s Adventures [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804720
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	Echoes of the Night

_ Whish, whoosh, whish, whoosh- _

Dandelion strummed his lute, face scrunching up in a grimace as he played the same tune for the umpteenth time, only to hit a snag after the next couple ones, cursing as he repeated the cycle.

“Hard night?”

Sparks of fire crackled, tiny fireballs bouncing out of the flaming wood.

The gentle, steady rhythm of oiled leather against sword accompanied the unusually loud buzzing of life in the woods at night, the clearing they chose to camp in strangely filled with all kinds of music, a symphony of nocturnal creatures that somehow basked the area in a beautiful cacophony of noises.

Noises that the poet would have appreciated at any other time.

Not now, when he’s attempting  very hard to compose a brand new original song for the upcoming Balladry competition in the next town.

In reply, Dandelion picked a few strings in a melodic chord, playing it much harder than he intended to before letting the last note echo into the night. With a huge sigh, the bard slumped onto the log he was using as backrest, mouth opening to express his grievances-

“If you’re about to ask me to stop polishing, think of the monsters prowling about in the forest that could attack at any moment.”

Indignation rose within him, he spluttered in disbelief at the accusation of his friend and squawked:

“ _Excuse_ me? How could you _even_ sugge-”

“I jest, friend,” intercepted the Witcher across from him, sitting on the log with his hand now stilled; eyes crinkled, the corner of his lips twitching unnaturally.

Huffing, the bard carefully laid out his lute to the side before making himself comfortable, his satchel slipped beneath him as a makeshift pillow. The whole process was a racket, rushed and impatient, a weak attempt to disguise his embarrassment from his outburst.  No other sound came from Geralt, which suited Dandelion just fine; his own frustration still coming up in fumes as he tried to settle down on his hastily pulled out bedroll.

Then silence. Blessed silence surrounded them for a few, blissful seconds...until a grasshopper chirped. And another. More and more things decided to contribute to the orchestra of noises right then and-

Dandelion was ready to throw up hands in frustration, hissing out a curse. But not a moment too soon, the sound of leather grinding against metal slashed through the campsite again—slow but unfaltering, a constant in the sea of chaos of this uneventful night.

_ Whoosh, whish, whoosh, whish- _

The bard sighed, closing his eyes. Forcing his mind to center around that sound, he let the monotony of it wash over his tired limbs and strained nerves, straining his ears to hone in and flush out everything else.

“Is this competition that important to you?” grunted the witcher after a long stretch of stillness, the sharp  _Zing!_ of metal being sheathed and rustled clothes signaling that he was trying to find a comfortable position too now. As usual, Geralt could tell when he feigned sleep, no doubt due to his witcher senses and all that.

The flame crackled, orange dancing behind closed eyelids.

“Perhaps not,” he murmured, still refusing to open his eyes lest he’s bombarded with too many things and his headache returns. “But it irks me  greatly when I can’t get it right. I  _know_ what I want, all the necessary ingredients is right there in my mind fortress—but the universe seems to be out to ruin all my progress tonight!”

Sighing again, because he deserved to, Dandelion turned to his side, his back to the fire. A chill started to seep to the front of his body, but his eyes were no longer assaulted by the pulsing light, so he has no intention of regretting his decision.

‘Huh,’ thought the bard, a random thought crossing his mind like an unsuspecting fly. ‘If this unusual sensitivity bothers me so...imagine how much worse Geralt’s heightened senses could be.’

Pondering over this thought and what it could mean, his friend’s words almost flew right over him.

“You realize you can continue at another time,” the witcher phrased, bluntly yet carefully, like a question—as if Dandelion was prone to erupting in a fit again. Huffing quietly to himself, the bard was pleasantly surprised to find that his senseless anger had evaporated, his musing regarding the discomforts Witchers face daily had transformed his restlessness into something more interesting and productive.

“Indeed I do, dear Witcher,” he chuckled wryly, “such is the life of an artiste. Our work would blindly consume us and cause us to lash out in a moment of weakness. I don’t usually get worked up to the point of anger, but it does happen from time to time.”

Geralt  _hmm_ -ed back in lieu of an answer and Dandelion found that to be satisfactory.

With the second darkest hour of the night approaching, the forest grew quieter; cool air brushing across his stubble and exposed forehead, lulling him to a deep, dreamless sleep.

Just before he was pulled under the depth of pure oblivion, a low, hesitant whisper was carried by the wind and into his ears: “I suppose, in that sense...it isn’t so different from my line of work.”

Cornflower blue eyes snapped open in astonishment as the meaning of the words finally caught up with his now-pudgy mind, his breath stuck in his throat as he tries very hard to appear normal. Dandelion knew it was a lost cause, but at least he  _ tried._

Craning his head to where the witcher rested, he watched how Geralt lay down with his back on the bedroll, but his face was turned in his direction—or more specifically, the dancing flame separating them.  Thankfully the wood they gathered was enough to last for a few more hours, so neither of them had to get up to hunt for more in the dead of night. It crackled, splinters turning to ash and sending a trail of smoke into the starry night sky.

Sharp yellow eyes—their pupils, normally slits during the day, are now slightly bigger other human beings’; snapped up and met with blue. They held their gaze, a flicker of understanding exchanged in a single bated breath.

Before long, a small, forlorn smile graced the bard’s face, the only acceptable reaction he could muster in this moment of shared earnestness. The witcher lowered his gaze in turn, the flicker of the flame briefly casting a dark shadow across his pale features before softening its edges.

“Then I shall continue composing in the morn, with new fervor and a spring in my steps. As will you, naturally. Goodnight, Geralt.”

“...Goodnight, Dandelion.”

_ And thank you_ , floated the unspoken words like leaves scattered in autumn, reaching to the bard all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to play around with a situation where Dandelion got writers'/artists' block--something I'm sure a lot of us has gone through. I wanted to see how Geralt would react to it, and BOOM! This fic was born haha XD I've been craving some canon-compliant, platonic fics of these two—which is _severely_ lacking in the fandom, so I thought I'd give it a go ;) I absolutely love the quiet, thoughtful moments they share in the book. It’s pretty much canon that they don’t rush discussions, letting each other think about what they want to say for a long time if need be—and I just find that incredibly beautiful.
> 
> This is my first time writing them too, so I hope I got them right!
> 
> Feedback/comments are appreciated!


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